he thinks (they are invincible)
by astral symphony
Summary: "Love, he realizes, thrives on tragedy. It grows and spreads in troubled times, but that doesn't mean it always survives." Remus and Nymphadora get married, but it is not a smooth road.


****author's note| this was written for a fic exchange over at hpfanfictionprompts on tumblr. something different and rather out of my normal realm of comfort, but I'm quite pleased with this!

* * *

**h****e**** t****hinks**

(they are invincible)

_xxx_

**i. now: july 1997**

Love, he realizes, thrives on tragedy.

It grows and spreads in troubled times, but that doesn't mean it always survives.

He thinks of those who have loved and suffered in the First War: Dorcas Meadowes and her husband, murdered; Marlene McKinnon and her fiancé, victims of a mass-murder; Benjy Fenwick and his girl, blasted to pieces in a nasty battle; Frank and Alice Longbottom, both lost in their bodies, alive but not living.

And of course he thinks of James and Lily Potter. He thinks of the power their love held and how it still lives on in their son. He thinks of Lily's sacrifice and wonders if he would have – _could_ have – done the same.

But mostly, he thinks about all the unfilled seats that will be at his wedding, because tragedy can nurture love, but it can't always save it.

**ii. then: july 1996 **

The first time they had a proper conversation was shortly after Sirius Black's death.

Remus Lupin sat slumped in a chair, his eyes unfocused as they stared beyond the room, watching a montage of the past flicker dully before his eyes. So engrossed was he in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice when another figure entered the room. As it was, had she not stumbled over an off-set floorboard she would have continued to go unnoticed. He did not register who it was at first; she looked as though she could have been Sirius's sister: petite and pale-skinned with black hair skimming her shoulders and grey eyes wide. Her features were contorted into a look of apologetic surprise and it was only upon looking closely that he recognized the youthful, heart-shaped face. Or maybe her identification had more to do with the display of clumsiness rather than her appearance. Remus couldn't be sure.

"Sorry," the girl muttered.

Remus shook his head dismissively and even let a small smile flicker across the corner of his mouth. "This is a new look, Nymphadora. I didn't recognize you at first." After a pause, he decidedly added: "You look like you could be his sister."

Nymphadora Tonks watched him carefully. "I wish I had the chance to know him better. Mum always said he was her favorite cousin."

This time, Remus really did smile. "You would have liked him. He had a knack for making people laugh, which I'm sure you noticed in the little time you spent in his company." She rocked uncertainly on her heels, hands clasped awkwardly in front of her. "Sit," he suggested gently, indicating the several unoccupied chairs.

She smiled warmly and sat in the chair opposite his. "I forgot – you two were best mates, yeah?"

"Like brothers, really," he confirmed.

Remus toyed with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, frowning. He did not look at her when he spoke again, but kept his eyes downturned. "Which is why it was even more heartbreaking to spend thirteen years believing he betrayed James and Lily." The words were spoken softly, regretfully. He met her eyes, now back to their usual shade of brown, wide and bright. She had a warm and inviting presence, for which he was grateful; so, he continued. "I still regret believing it. Believing that he – that Sirius could have done that. The fact that he forgave me without the slightest hesitation is a testament to who he was."

"You shouldn't harbor that regret, Remus," she said softly. "He wouldn't want that."

He merely looked at her for a moment, silent. She looked back, unwavering, almost challenging him to argue. "It's true," he said finally. "He wouldn't."

Tonks leaned back in her chair and smiled. She wore relaxed confidence well, much like Sirius did. It was never tainted with conceit or ill-being, but rather worked to infect his friends with the same air of content. Remus was pleased to notice she had the same effect. He smiled in spite of himself.

"You ought to smile more often. You look far too serious," she commented.

"These are serious times," he said simply, the smile flickering slightly.

"But when we take away happiness and smiles – well, there's nothing left, is there? And You-Know-Who wins," she said wisely; it sounded exactly like something Sirius had said during the First War. "Which is why we're going to spend the afternoon with Butterbeer and Exploding Snaps." Before he could argue she waved her wand with ease; several bottles of the delicious, warm beverage and a small box of cards zoomed across the room, followed by a table that closed the gap between them.

He couldn't help but laugh, feeling a piece of the heaviness ease from his chest for the first time since Sirius's death. And without second-guessing the frivolity of it all, Remus Lupin spent the rest of that afternoon playing a silly card game with Nymphadora Tonks.

Together they talked and laughed and enjoyed the mysteries surrounding a new friendship.

**iii. now: july 1997**

It is a small affair; there is no way around that. But it is theirs and that's what counts.

His hand clings to hers, knuckles white, as they walk along the pathway. Her small frame is covered in an airy ivory dress, the gracious hem billowing around her knees with each step taken. Her hair is a vibrant bubblegum pink, so classically Tonks; but rather than maintaining her favored short locks that framed her face and neck, her hair falls in soft wavy layers around her shoulders. His mind is consumed with how breathtaking she looks and he feels guilty about the secrecy that must surround their marriage.

But mostly he thinks about how selfish it is to allow a young twenty-four-year-old to marry an old werewolf, broken and torn and poor_. _

**iv. then: january 1997**

It was a snowy Sunday morning when Tonks knocked frantically at Remus's door. Her hair, soaked from being outside for too long, was long and tawny brown; she looked thinner and paler than normal. It was quite a change from the usually vibrant, eye-catching hair and healthy, happy demeanor. The door did not open right away, and she continued to knock with increasing force and fervor. When it finally did open, she was caught off-guard and nearly fell into the doorway, but managed to catch her balance.

"Nympha-"

"You can't fucking ignore me forever, Remus," she spat before he could even finish saying her name. "You can't just keep avoiding me. It's getting old, you know, with you Disapparating any time I walk into a room."

"I don't do that," he muttered. She rolled her eyes and scoffed loudly. "It's for your own good, at any rate," he said quietly, looking pointedly away from her face.

"Well I'm not leaving," she said determinedly. "So you can either allow me inside or I can stand out here in the snow and catch a cold." And to emphasize her point, Tonks took a step back so she was no longer protected by the small awning. Fluffy white flakes drifted from every angle, settling on the wool of her cloak and in strands of tangled hair.

Remus sighed, running a hand wearily over his face. "Get inside."

Without another moment's hesitation, the girl stomped inside; she sloshed right past him and made her way to his kitchen where she sat at the dining table, resolute. He arrived a few seconds after her, standing against a cabinet on the opposite side of the room. A still silence filled the room for several long minutes, during which Tonks stared at Remus and Remus refused to meet her eyes.

"I can't metamorphmosize anymore," she said, finally breaking the silence. "It's not working."

"You're just overwhelmed with everything that's going on with the Order. Excessive stress has a tendency to negatively affect one's ability to –"

"Excessive stress? Really?" she said with a humorless laugh. "Shit, is that also why my patronus has changed?" she inquired sharply. She took advantage of his hesitant silence to withdraw her wand from her pocket. After taking a quick moment to collect her thoughts, she waved her wrist in a series of flicks and, looking directly at him, spoke clearly, "_Expecto Patronum." _

A massive four-legged creature, glowing silver, erupted from the tip of her wand and began to move about the room. It paced back and forth in front of her, its ears perked and alert. The tail twitched back and forth a few times before it settled on its haunches beside its owner. The patronus cast a bright bluish glow across the room, artificially lighting up her features.

"A wolf," he noted wistfully. He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. At this, the patronus glowed slightly brighter, the silvery edges pulsing almost like a heartbeat. She dropped her wand, and just like that the ephemeral wolf was gone, leaving nothing of its presence. "It still doesn't change my mind."

She stood abruptly. "I don't give a damn about the dangers, Remus," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm a trained Auror. I'm in the Order. No offence, but being involved with a werewolf is the last of my concerns."

"_That may be_," he stressed, "but it does not mean that I don't care. Do you think I could ever forgive myself if I hurt you during one of my transformations? You deserve better, Nymphadora."

"That's rubbish and you know it. Being a werewolf does not mean you have to deny yourself happiness. Werewolf or not, you're still a human, Remus." Her eyes shone, now, but she didn't allow the tears to fall.

"You deserve better," Remus repeated. "You – "

"I deserve to be happy," she interjected strongly, a hand jumping up to the crown of her head, fisting a knot of hair. "_You make me happy_," she said emphatically, taking a step toward him. Her hand was outstretched, thin fingers reaching for his own. They just barely curled around his when a new silvery creature appeared with a "_pop_" between them. Her hand withdrew of its own accord and she looked at it from behind knitted brows.

Contrasting the wolf from earlier, this figure was small and spindly, its sharp nose pointed in Remus's direction. And just like that, as Arthur Weasley's voice came droning from the silver weasel – bearing message of a surprise Death Eater attack just beyond Order headquarters – he was reminded of all the reasons he could never be with Nymphadora Tonks.

**v. now: july 1997**

He thinks of all the reasons he belongs with Nymphadora Tonks.

She is perfect in her imperfection. She is loud and resilient and more stubborn than even Sirius was. She is clumsy and swears too much and maybe she should drink a little less Firewhiskey. She is young and learning and eager.

And he thinks of the way her hand feels in his, warm and solid and real. He thinks of the first time he admitted to her he loved her, how utterly divine those words were. He thinks of her strength and the first time she cared for him during a transformation. He thinks about her, just her, always her.

But mostly he thinks about those nights lying next to her when it's easy to pretend that everything is all right and he's just a normal bloke, not a monster living in a war.

**vi. then: may, 1997**

The night was unseasonably cool for May. Welcomed darkness surrounded them: a New Moon. On nights like these, everything seemed set in place. There was a hopeful sense of being which surrounded these dark, moonless evenings.

Remus smoothed the top of her head, his fingers toying with the short ends of her hair, violet that day. She lay nested against his body, her back flush against his chest and his arms curled around her. They fit together nicely, he thought.

Since the first time they kissed – she, of course, catching him completely off-guard and kissing first – it all seemed right. He recalled the awkward days of new relationships he had tried during Hogwarts. Those first few weeks when two people are young and learning how to love one another often made for sloppy kisses and uncomfortable snuggling.

"I love you," she blubbered through a yawn. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, just by her ear. It was a soft kiss, chaste and lovely.

"I never tire of hearing that," he said, his voice a low whisper because that was all he could manage just then. Anything louder would break the fantasy of his moment: the world where there was no Voldemort and his friends were not dying and he could love freely without worry.

"I never tire of saying it."

"You are my world, Nymphadora," he sighed into her hair. "I love you."

She turned in his arms, facing him now. He took this opportunity to place a small kiss on the tip of her nose, coaxing a vibrant smile across her face. "I've been talking to Molly a lot lately," Tonks began, her eyes searching his as she brushed his hair, longer than usual in recent weeks, from his eyes. Her fingers settled at his neck, curling into the crook there. "About us," she added.

There was an exhale of soft laughter from Remus, eyebrows furrowed as he did so. She traced the lines with a finger, following then a scar she couldn't see in the low light but knew was there. The mark started at the center of his nose and meandered down his right cheek stopping somewhere just above his jawline. "Gossiping about me, are you?" he quipped with a small smile.

"I want us to get married," she said quickly. Rendered speechless, he simply looked at her. "I just want – I think it's best if – I mean," she tried to find the words but could not. "Molly and Arthur got married during the First War."

"That's different. The circumstances, they're completely unrelated."

"No, they aren't," she pressed. "Two people in love during a war. Sounds the same to me."

"We aren't just two people. We're a girl and a were—"

"_Don't you say it," _she seethed. Tonks sat up now, her hair wildly strewn around her face and eyes bright as she looked at him. Remus sat, too, hands folded neatly in his lap as he struggled to maintain eye contact. "Don't you _dare_ say it. I don't care. I don't fucking _care_. How many times can I say it? And what's the difference in danger of us being together now, as we are, and being together, wed?"

"There are _laws_ against this, love."

"There are also laws against betraying the Ministry but we don't care about that when we're working for the Order, now do we?"

"It's – "

"Not different!" she insisted and threw herself forward into a fierce kiss. Her fingers clung to the neck of his t-shirt. When she pulled away from him, her eyes were wet with unshed tears and she swallowed hard. "Listen to me," she pleaded. "Please. We are thrown into dangerous situations every damn day. If I'm going to die, I want to die knowing I married the only man I have ever truly loved."

**vii. now: july 1997**

It is a small affair because it cannot be anything but.

They stand in the tiny parlor of Tonks's parent's home. Andromeda and Ted are there, dressed in their best robes and absolutely beaming. The modest house is decorated with as much extravagance as a secret wedding can warrant. Glittering silver streamers with bright stars at the end curl from the ceiling. As they sway in the warm breeze coming from several open windows, the light, dancing wildly from pillars of candles, catches and reflects onto other surfaces.

It is a small affair because there are only four guests.

It is hard not to envision the many empty chairs that ought to be lined up. Chairs that belong to both the dead and those who simply could not be there because it has to, has to, has to be a small affair. He sees Sirius and James and Peter – Peter, his friend; Peter, before the betrayal –all standing alongside him. He sees beautiful, kind Lily sitting with Harry and trying to smooth his hair because she is his mother and that's what mothers do; but Harry simply wishes to escape her grasp to find Ginny. He sees Dumbledore, pleased and proud and a truly great presence, so it's humbling that he is there. He sees his parents smiling alongside Andromeda and Ted, offering well-wishes about the joining of these families.

It is a small affair, because he sees all this but it is not there.

Molly and Arthur Weasley arrive there shortly, overwhelming Remus with a feeling of surrogacy. While they are not related by any stretch of the imagination, it feels like having family of his own there. Molly hugs Tonks first, complimenting her appearance, and then swoops onto Remus. Her arms pull him into a tight embrace. She is shorter than him, so he has to crouch to hear the words she whispers into his ear: "You deserve this."

And there is something striking about this, hearing those words from Molly Weasley with her seven children and her devoted husband and her fiery personality and admirable life, that lifts a weight from his chest.

Finally, Minerva McGonagall arrives. She is the last of the party. It is with her blessing that they are getting married. Remus can't help but think about what James and Sirius and Peter would say if he had the chance to tell them that Professor McGonagall is officiating his marriage. Of course, his old professor looks as rigid and straight-laced as ever – but there is something different. Perhaps it is the bright emerald robes she wears, instead of the black he is used to seeing, that make her seem softer. When she smiles he feels encouraged and everything seems all right.

"We can't thank you enough, Professor," Tonks says. She is hugging the older witch – a sight that brings a genuine, wide smile to Remus's face.

"This world needs more love," she says. "It needs it now more than ever. I'm honored to be a part of it. And please, Nymphadora, call me Minerva. It's been years since I've been your professor – and we all know how well that worked out."

Tonks smiles and laughs gleefully. "Enough to make me an Auror, Minerva."

And so it goes: pleasant banter among friends; wine and food; laughter and joy.

After a little while, Minerva calls the party to order. Molly, Arthur, Andromeda, and Ted all sit in summoned seats, leaving the three others to stand at what becomes the front of the parlor. Molly is crying, and Andromeda passes her a tissue and a smile before throwing her arm around the witch's shoulders. Remus stands with Nymphadora, their left hands clasped together and wands held in their right. They stand before Minerva and she places the tip of her own wands on the couple's joined hands. A bright golden glow surrounds their hands, spreading up to their wrists. It sends a warm tingle through his body; he looks down at Nymphadora, her eyes wide and eager as she watches Minerva.

"Today is a bittersweet occasion," she begins. "Standing before me are two brave people in love. With a world under great duress and times changing before our very eyes, we cannot afford to lose sight of this miracle. To underestimate the power of love is to yield ourselves to this war. So we look to you, Nymphadora Tonks; and to you, Remus Lupin. We look to you as inspiration and as a reminder to go forward, because without love, what have we got?"

Minerva smiles at them and taps her wand once on his wrist, twice on hers, and thrice on their joined hands. He feels a thin golden band weave its way around his ring finger, seeing the same magic happen to Nymphadora's finger.

"It is with great joy and pleasure that I present to you all, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin."

There is applause and whistles and he kisses her and everything is perfect and he knows, just knows, that they are invincible.

_xxx_


End file.
